


The First Date

by questionmark007



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stitch Detective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionmark007/pseuds/questionmark007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fisher & Kirsten go on their first date. Fisher's nervous. Like really nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Date

Detective Quincy Fisher was not a man who got nervous. Fisher had been shot at before and taken taken two bullets. He worked in several dangerous divisions of the L.A.P.D before getting ‘loaned’ to the Stitcher’s Program where he was regularly (and ominously) threatened by not only the suspects but his superiors as well.

  
So the fact that he’d switched ties three times before finally deciding to go without one before he left the house was most definitely not usual. Nor was the fact that he’d also changed socks four times before finally feeling like he had a pair that worked.

  
Fisher hadn’t dated in a long time (six years) and he hadn’t been on a first date in even longer than that, but still, he was fairly certain that he wasn't this nervous at any point in the entirety of that relationship. Hell, he wasn't even this nervous at any point in the divorce proceedings when he had to spend the day in court. And Fisher hates court.

  
And now here he is, waiting to meet Kirsten at the restaurant, and he has butterflies. And honestly, he’s not pleased about it. He shouldn’t be nervous, this shouldn’t be weird and yet…it was.

  
Maybe it was the fact that they were coworkers and that being a big no-no had been ingrained in him since got his first job at a grocery store when he was fifteen and had big fat crush on one of the cashiers or maybe it was the fact that he was almost a decade older than she was, but for whatever reason, Fisher felt wildly out of his depth.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced at the front door of the restaurant, again, only to do a double take. Kirsten had just walked in, looking more beautiful that Fisher had ever seen her. As she saw him and made her way over to their table, he stood.

  
“You look great, Kirsten.” Fisher smiled warmly at her, pulling out her chair for her as she sat down.

  
“Thank you, Fisher. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Kirsten smiled back at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a tie.”

  
“Yeah, well I decided to switch things up a little,” Fisher tugged at the collar of his shirt, feeling out of place without the tie.

  
“I like it,” she told him and Fisher suddenly felt a large portion of his nervousness disappear as she smiled at him. “How was physical therapy?”

  
“It’s never fun, but I know it’s necessary.” Fisher shrugged. “Really I’m just looking forward to getting off desk duty.”

  
“Yeah, I can’t imagine it’s very fun.” Kirsten said, opening the menu in front of her.

“It’s a lot of paperwork,” he shrugged, “And I’ve never been one to sit still for very long.”

Before Kirsten could respond, the waiter walked up to take their drink orders (a glass of wine for Kirsten and a whiskey, neat, for Fisher). When he left, the pair sat in silence for a moment as Fisher wracked his brain for what to say next.

“Are you okay?” Kirsten asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” Fisher asked, confused.

“Well, I know I’m not the best with emotions, but you seem really tense.” Kirsten told him, looking at him with concerned eyes. “Like I can practically feel it. And I've never seen you drink anything stronger than a beer before.”

Fisher sat back in his chair, “Sorry. I’m just nervous.” he admitted.

  
“Why are you nervous?” Kirsten gave him a small smile, which he took to be encouraging.

  
“I haven’t dated in a while. I’m probably pretty rusty.” He fidgeted in his seat.

“And I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.” He gestured between them, “I mean, I am a little bit older than you are…”

“Time doesn’t matter to me, Fisher. And age is just another form of time. So this,” she gestured between them as well, “doesn’t freak me out at all. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn't be.”

Fisher beamed at her: “I’m glad. And if we’re going to do this, and I hope we do, I think you can call me Quincy.”

Kirsten wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I can in front of the team." Kirsten said, “It’d be too weird. But when we’re alone, like now, I’ll try.”

“Perfect.” Fisher smiled at her as the waiter returned with their drinks. As he held her gaze, Fisher realized he didn’t feel nervous anymore. He felt hopeful and he knew it had every to do with the woman sitting across from him.


End file.
